Jagged Little Memories
by Shadowfax27
Summary: CaRWaSh! Calleigh never would’ve imagined that an old, forgotten CD could say so much about her life. A drabble and introspection of sorts. Inspired by Alanis Morissette’s 3rd album, “Jagged Little Pill.” CH. 2 NOW UP! Chapter Song: You Oughta Know
1. All I Really Want

**TITLE: Jagged Little Memories 1/12**

**CHAPTER GENRE:** Drama/Fluff/Romance

**CHAPTER RATING:** PG

**DISCLAIMER:** Me no own. You no sue. Blah, blah, blah…get the picture?

**BETA-ED BY: **Me! Oh, pick me! Pick me! (Mistakes make me human...)

**SUMMARY: **CaRWaSh! Calleigh never would've imagined that an old, forgotten CD could say so much about her life. A drabble and introspection of sorts. Inspired by Alanis Morissette's 3rd album, "Jagged Little Pill."

**A/N: My first attempt at writing CaRWash! **Let me preface this by saying that the inspiration for this ficlet came about while I was reorganizing my CD rack. I stumbled upon my old copy of this CD and being the girly-girl that I am, I just _had_ to look over the songs that were listed on the back. Well, it didn't take long before a plot penguin jumped out and attacked me so freakin' hard that I soon found myself writing this.

For some of these songs, pay more attention to the meaning behind the titles than the actual lyrics… comprende?

**_Uhmm… to all the CaRWash fans out there and at Talk CSI, this is the cough CRWsh fcce cough project that I was needing some information for (well, the next chapter, anyway). I'm dedicating this to all of you. Enjoy!_**

**-----**

Chapter 1 – All I Really Want

A door swung open and slammed against the wall with a loud thud as a large brown box, seemingly attached to a pair of legs clad in jeans and flip flops, stumbled into the near chaotic living room before kicking the door shut. The box, filled to the top with knick-knacks and the like, collided none-too-gently with the couch, nearly stumbling over the back of it and almost spilling its contents.

Re-adjusting itself with a grunt, the box backed up and walked around the couch only to stub its toe on one of the legs of the end table. A series of muffled expletives came tumbling out from behind the box as it hopped clownishly on one leg, the knick-knacks inside shifting and bumping against each other as the arms encircling it tightened its hold.

A few seconds later, the leg owning the stubbed toe came down with a noticeable limp, and the box attempted to walk again. It narrowly missed tripping over a pile of boxes to its right as it hobbled clumsily about in the living room, before it finally reached its destination, parking in front of a large CD rack between the television stand and the fireplace.

With another labored grunt, the legs bent at the knees and attempted to kneel on the floor as the box slowly descended towards the floor. Unfortunately, heavy lifting throughout the day coupled with the previous accidents around the living room had taken their toll, and the box began to rattle unsteadily as the legs supporting it suddenly began to quiver with exhaustion while the knees buckled under the weight.

A muffled cry was heard along with another series of expletives as the weary legs finally gave out, and the very pregnant box came crashing down on the floor, taking the pair of legs and the arms still encircling it down with a sprawling thud. For a brief moment, there was complete silence amidst the chaos and the clutter dotting the living room, save for the barely audible panting coming from behind the box.

Another minute passed, and at long last, one of the arms lets go of its hold, tiredly slinging itself on top of the box as the other braced itself against the floor. And with an exhausted groan, the pony-tailed head of one Calleigh Duquesne finally emerged from behind the brown container, casually blowing off a wisp of blonde hair from her face as she pulled the rest of her body up into a sitting position in front of the box.

Her muscles ached, and she felt sorely tired. But she had never felt happier about moving into a new place. She felt slightly giddy with excitement, and she couldn't help but to break out into a girlish grin as she thought about the endless possibilities that could happen now that she was embarking on a new chapter in her life.

And so, with a deep breath and still with that tired but relieved smile on her face, Calleigh opened the box in front of her and began to take out its contents, taking a brief moment to look over them wistfully before setting them down on the floor to be placed in their appropriate locations somewhere within the still messy living room.

She sorted through the different picture frames, books, and movie collections she owned, grouping them in neat little piles around her until she had gone through the whole box. She stood up, picked up the box, and was about to go outside to toss it away when she felt something shift somewhere within in.

Frowning, she shook the box slightly, trying to dislodge whatever it was that might have gotten stuck underneath or between the flaps. She caught sight of something that looked like the corner of a case, made of clear plastic. Setting the box down on the floor once more, she kneeled in front of it and reached in, pulling on the exposed corner to extricate the mysterious piece of knick-knack.

She grabbed a hold of something thin and smooth, and when she finally pulled her hand out of the box, she was delighted to see an old CD she had purchased several years ago: Alanis Morissette's "Jagged Little Pill" album. She flipped the CD over, and a reminiscing smile tugged on her lips as she silently read the names of each one of the songs.

Without realizing it, she automatically sat back down on the floor as bits of thoughts, some long forgotten, some currently lurking somewhere in the busy forefront of her consciousness, filtered through her mind and flashed before her eyes, mixing in with pieces of jagged little memories from both her distant and nearby past…

_There I go jumping before the gunshot has gone off…_

Calleigh Duquesne is an intelligent woman. She is strong, beautiful, and independent. She handles firearms in a way that would put most men in the same field to shame, and she works in a profession typically dominated by men. She is strong-willed, motivated, and self-sufficient, and she walks in confident footsteps.

In a word, Calleigh Duquesne is a modern woman living in the 21st century. And she possesses all of the qualities needed not just to survive, but also to succeed.

So what does Calleigh Duquesne _really_ want?

She wants what all modern women want: a successful and fulfilling career, a loving family, and an identity to call her own. She wants to seek out the dark forces and smash them into bleeding and insignificant smithereens, to walk in the path of truth and justice, and to battle against the villains and their hellish crusades.

She wants to become her… just her. And no one else. She wants to keep developing the nerve to conquer her well-hidden fears. She wants the will to overcome whatever obstacles people might place in front of her.

_And all I really want is some patience_

_A way to calm the angry voice_

_And all I really want is deliverance..._

A long time ago, back when she was still a teenager living in rural Louisiana, she remembers wanting to have the courage to move away from her parents' home. She remembers wanting to finish her degree and then moving on to some place where jobs were plentiful. She remembers wanting to reinvent herself, to mark out her own path, and to stamp out a new identity.

Back then, she just wanted the courage to be herself and to survive on her own. She wanted to be strong and to not feel the fear and the vulnerability of being weak and helpless.

She wanted to learn to accept people's rejection without hanging her head in shame. She wanted to learn to have a higher sense of self-worth, to realize that she was more than okay and that she was going to be okay.

She wanted to quit hurting so much from her painful childhood, to quit watching her parents drown their disappointments with alcohol and fantasies.

She was tired of crying, and she wanted to quit.

_What I wouldn't give to find a soul mate_

_Someone else to catch this drift_

_And what I wouldn't give to meet a kindred…_

She chuckles lightly as a few lines of the popular lyrics flitted across her mind.

Soul mate.

Love.

Everyone hopes for both of these to come, begs for them to knock on their door. Others want to be wrapped around them in ecstasy, like a blanket that never loses its warmth and fuzzy feelings.

But what exactly are they?

What is a soul mate?

What is love?

She has never met anyone who has been able to define these terms appropriately, and most of the definitions she has heard in the past are so cliché that she finds herself tuning them out, shrugging them off as inconsequential, non-applicable, quoted entirely too much to mean anything significant anymore, too worn beyond their proper use.

Soul mate is a noun.

And love is both a noun and a verb.

That much she knows.

So, why do these change completely when "true" is added in front of it?

_True_ soul mate?

_True_ love?

She thinks that people are always using romance as a genre because it is what they deeply desire the most. Perhaps romance has a way of connecting people in such a way that most could identify with it: that first encounter… that first look… that first smile… that first 'hello'… even the butterflies fluttering in a frenzy at that first touch.

She admits that as much as she proclaims herself to be a modern and independent woman, that she is still hopelessly captivated by the idea of "true love" and of meeting her "true soul mate."

She admits she is guilty of being just as in awe of a couple's first kiss as the girl next door, though she would never actually admit that to anyone.

No… she would keep that little secret to her modern self, thank you very much!

She giggles slightly at the thought: a first kiss.

Such a simple action…

Lips on lips.

Nothing spectacular or extraordinary about that. Right?

And yet, there she is, guilty for having dreamt about it, for fantasizing about it, and even for romanticizing it.

She sobers up after a while, and she remembers how during her most difficult times, when she was experiencing the worst heartache of her life, she thought that soul mates were merely fiction, something that she had conjured up in her lovesick mind and existed in her imagination – the only place where they could ever be real.

Back then, she had thought about giving up on the idea of love and soul mates altogether.

Back then… before she met _him_…

Of course, she has grown up a lot since then; she has matured in her way of thinking. And now she thinks that perhaps people could actually fall in love with anyone if they give him or her and themselves the chance… if she just gave _herself_ the chance.

She wants to find true love and believes that it must surely be out there if everyone keeps talking about it. Right? And even though people might use vague words or tired clichés to describe it and might speak of it in circles and riddles, she is absolutely positive that it is a reality in this realm… not just in fantasy-fueled imaginations and movies and romance novels.

She agrees that the whole idea of one soul mate that can truly give her true love is undoubtedly romantic. And she has long ago vowed that she will never be the fool who shuns true love if it is staring her right in the eyes. As modern as she likes to believe she is, Calleigh Duquesne still believes wholeheartedly and is still fascinated by true love and soul mates.

Yes, she believes in both of these so much that even when "false loves" had unmercifully shattered her heart into a million pieces in the past, she patiently waited for the "true one" to come knocking on her door.

And she waited because…

She wants to not be afraid anymore: afraid to trust… afraid to take risks… afraid to become vulnerable… afraid to let someone in…

She wants to not be afraid to give herself and her heart over completely to someone… to _him_.

She wants to not be afraid to love… to fall deeply and passionately in love.

And so, she waited patiently. And one day, when she wasn't looking for it and when it had become the farthest thing from her busy mind, they did come knocking quite unexpectedly (in the form of a handsome young patrol officer-turned CSI) on the once mangled and carefully guarded door of her heart.

And Calleigh Duquesne was never gladder than when she finally opened that door…

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**TBC**

_**Reviews feed my CaRWash addiction. Feed me…**_

**A/N: **Next update will take a while as I'm stepping into one of my busiest times of the year. I have several deadlines that are due in September, and it will be extremely difficult for me to put the time into writing, as my schedule will be insanely hectic. But I promise to work on these when I do find the time and hope to post updates every now and then. I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter because I'm really excited about the other chapters as well. Until next time… stay tuned!


	2. You Oughta Know

**CHAPTER GENRE:** Drama/Fluff/Romance

**CHAPTER RATING:** PG-13 or T

**DISCLAIMER:** Me no own. You no sue. Blah, blah, blah…get the picture?

**WARNING:** Some mild **SPOILERS** for several S2 - S4 episodes up to the season finale, **specifically S3 Episodes: Under The Influence and 10-7 and S4 Episodes: From The Grave and Urban Hellraisers.**

**BETA: **Mistakes make me human...

**SUMMARY: **CaRWaSh! Or Cyan! Calleigh never would've imagined that an old, forgotten CD could say so much about her life. A drabble of sorts. Inspired by Alanis Morissette's 3rd album, "Jagged Little Pill."

**A/N: **I didn't intend for this 'drabble' to get this long, but here it is. You can blame the plot penguin for its refusal to shut up and for giving me the plot for this chapter. As I stated previously, for some of these songs (such as this one), pay more attention to the meaning behind the titles than the actual lyrics… comprende?

_**Dedicated to all CaRWash/Cyan lovers and shippers out there!**_

**-----**

Chapter 2 – You Oughta Know

Moving on down, Calleigh's eyes land on the second title on the list, "You Oughta Know."

A thought penetrates her mind like a flying paper airplane, thrown in mock innocence by a child, and she soon finds herself taking an inventory of her past, romantic and otherwise. She's not entirely sure why she's thinking about them now, why she's thinking about two of them, in particular. It's not like she misses them or anything.

But Calleigh Duquesne is still Calleigh Duquesne. And Calleigh Duquesne has a propensity to think and over-think things… even if most of them were already in the past.

And so, she closes her eyes and leans back slightly on her arms, propping her hands against the floor just a bit behind her. Thoughts soon overflow her mind, gushing out like the man-made waves in an automated wave pool on a hot summer day, and a quirky smirk graces her face as she imagines herself participating as a would-be contestant, looking for love and a match, on a reality TV dating show (MDPD/FBI version, of course).

_She could see herself sitting in that lavender couch right in the middle of the studio stage as Chuck Woolery, the host of 'Love Connection,' stands to her left and introduces her to the audience before re-introducing and recapping her 'dates' and relationships with the three distinct bachelors who have become would-be candidates for love in her life._

_You oughta know…_

Officer # 1 was a tall and brooding detective, the former partner of one Raymond Caine. He was all stares and seriousness, dressed up in a personality that was as drab as his suit, though he did 'try' to be charming when he was wooing her.

Yep… "try" is the operative word here.

She snorts at the memory and shakes her head at how gullible she had allowed herself to be and just how much she had let slide right underneath her nose when it came to John Hagen.

He was a gallery of depressing issues, too gloomy for everyday viewing, hidden behind a piteous excuse of a bad back, and entirely too heavy of a baggage for even her petite frame to deal with, strong as she was, all things considered.

And he had made 2 irrevocable mistakes:

_You oughta know…_

Fatal mistake #1: He should've left her father alone, should've kept his tactless comment to his disconsolate self, should've kept his foolish mouth shut. Perhaps he thought that Calleigh would agree with him. Perhaps he didn't think that she would take his thoughtless remark so personally. Perhaps he didn't think that she would take offense.

And that was the problem, _his _problem, anyway: he didn't think.

And when he did… well, he thought wrong.

_You oughta know…_

And so, she left him in the dust, dropped him like the off-handed comment he had so callously dropped about her father and told him that Friday nights weren't such a good idea anymore.

He had been stunned speechless, had been caught unawares… but not nearly as much as she had been hardened from him.

Why?

_You oughta know…_

Nobody talked 'trash' about Calleigh Duquesne's father – the one man she was most protective over, despite his many flaws. And although that did not mean that she was condoning her father's love affair with the bottle nor his reckless behavior behind the wheel, neither did it mean that she would simply stand idly by while her much-too-frank-for-his-own-damn-good boyfriend at the time 'unintentionally' insulted her by dropping an insensitive comment about her own flesh and blood.

Blood is _always_ thicker than water…

That is, unless, of course, she decides to take a deep, long drink of a certain handsome water, dives deep into the fountain of his soul, and then merges her life with his, emerging to become something different and entirely new: one flesh, one blood – one _true_ love.

Unfortunately for John, he learned that lesson too little, too late.

_You oughta know…_

Fatal mistake #2: Well, this one had been quite tragic, actually… and it affected Calleigh more than she cared to show, especially when it was glaringly obvious that John still couldn't let her go completely, that he wanted her back, wanted another chance with her. He simply couldn't deal with the fact that she only wanted to be his friend, nothing more, and certainly not anything like they used to be before.

She had been confronted with all of these before she could put click and click together and subsequently found out that he was the perpetrator who had held a gun to her head while she was investigating the scene of an explosion.

Not long after that, John Hagen shot himself in the head, spilling his brains and his blood all over her lab.

Shaken and disillusioned, she had quit Ballistics immediately after that and had transferred to Trace when it hit her that the victim was no longer just a victim, but someone she knew and used to care deeply about.

_You oughta know…_

She remembers how Ryan had once asked her about her decision to quit Ballistics while they were working their first Mala Noche case, and although she was deeply heartened by his concern, she wasn't really surprised that he had asked her how she was holding up. Her answer had been short but honest, and she was grateful that he hadn't pressed the issue further, opting to drop it and wishing her good-luck on her Ballistics Proficiency instead.

She couldn't explain why, but for some reason, she appreciated him even more after that, and she was thankful that their friendship and trust grew even more afterwards.

She admits that love was the last thing she was looking for when she had allowed herself to become close to Ryan Wolfe.

Friendship? Maybe.

Love? Heck no!

But boy, is she glad that love did come looking for her.

She lets a grin quirk up on her lips as she pictures a chubby, naked cupid, equipped with wings and a bow and arrow, hunting her down, on a mission to pierce her with one of his 'love arrows.' As ridiculous as that might sound, however, she was certainly grateful when she had been found.

_You oughta know…_

Officer #2 was cute and charming and cut unexpectedly deep like the glass that had shattered around them when he had pulled Calleigh down to safety during the Urban Hellraisers shooting spree at the crime lab.

He was salt and pepper hair with a cocky smirk. He was authority and power, who used his federal agent status to trump county proceedings and to sometimes undermine their investigations. He was charisma in a sharp, expensive suit and shoes, breathed self-importance, and walked arrogant strides.

But he wasn't thorough enough…

At least, not for her.

_You oughta know…_

And did she happen to mention that he hadn't exactly been as forthcoming about the fact that he was already engaged to one feisty State Attorney, while he was still flirting with her?

But the one thing that really peeved Calleigh more than anything and irritated her beyond belief was the fact that their definition of what 'thorough' was differed greatly, his falling well short of her standards. It irked her because in their jobs, _thoroughness_ meant walking the fine line between catching the criminal or wrongly letting the guilty go free, as was the case when he had unwisely released their suspect.

And that, more than the fact that she and her heart had been played like a fool, was something that Calleigh couldn't simply get past nor easily forget.

_You oughta know…_

Officer #3 was a handsome patrol officer turned CSI, who was 'just a boy' when she had first met him. He was young and eager to find the truth, more so than trying to prove himself capable, and she admired and appreciated that. He was curious, innovative, and intelligent – his success in solving his first case involving her father had certainly proved that.

But what struck her the most was his tenacity to get to the bottom of the truth. She likes the fact that he is thorough, probably even more so than her due to his OCD. And she loves that he is in the same crusade as her, battling crime in his own way and seeking justice for the victims and their families.

He was incredibly smart, like the smart-alecky comments he sometimes used to interrogate suspects or to irritate the stubble out of Eric Delko. He was profundity and enigma wrapped up in a fine-looking 5'11" package, and she finds his sarcastic wit and the intriguing depth of his character amazingly appealing.

Oh, and did she mention sexy?

She giggles at the thought: smart _and_ sexy…

Ryan Wolfe S.M.E.X.Y.

_You Oughta Know…_

She remembers so clearly the day when he had suddenly morphed into a man… a _very _handsome man. And it had been a rather unexpected but _very _pleasant surprise. She closes her eyes, picturing how strikingly different he had looked when he had come back from their mandatory vacation.

Gone were the adorable mop of brown hair, the much-too-casual for work zip up jackets, and slimmer physique. And in their place was a much shorter and cleaner haircut, which, Calleigh noticed, brought out his gorgeous eyes even more. He had also changed his wardrobe quite considerably, opting for those casual blazers or sport coats, which he had paired up smartly with some sexy button-down shirts that gave a teasing glimpse of his chest and those oh, so tantalizing chest hair.

He had kept wearing dark jeans for comfort and flexibility during work, and she thought he looked… well, H.O.T. with a capital T.

Nevertheless, Calleigh still adored him in his sweatervests, loving the way he had rolled up his long sleeves that last time he had worn one to work. She could still picture him so clearly in her mind. Though, she'd have to say that her favorite wardrobe would have to be the plain shirt and jeans combo, which showcased his well-muscled arms and his newer and stronger physique.

That was another thing that she had noticed, too, when they had come back… he had bulked up handsomely and had put on some weight and some very _nice_ definition on his chest and his arms. Oh, those arms… those sexy, _sexy _arms!

She sighs dreamily as she closes her eyes once again. She remembers dreaming about those pair of strong arms encircling her, holding her close against a muscled chest.

She smiles a goofy smile, then. At least now, she doesn't have to settle with just some wishful thinking, with just her girly fantasies to keep her warm at night. Because now, she has the real thing, the real deal, holding her close whenever he could and warming her bed at night… _their _bed.

And she would make sure that those same sexy arms would never ever let her go. She would make sure that those same arms and chest only had room for one woman to fill – _her_.

_You oughta know…_

She's not exactly sure why she doubts herself sometimes, why she doubts her standards and questions what she really wants… if _this _is what she _really_ wants. Deep inside, she has a hidden fear that things would implode between them, that nothing this good could ever really last, that eventually, this, too, shall end, and she would be left with her heart shattered into a million pained pieces all over again.

And although she's not entirely certain whether or not she'd be able to pick herself back up and start over again 'if' something so unfortunate were to ever happen to them, she's fairly certain that she would rather die than to go through something so devastating as that with him.

She doubts because she knows her lackluster history with men. And if her past relationships were any indication at all, then she knows that she does have some valid reasons to be concerned.

Not that anything significant has ever happened between her and Ryan to raise these concerns, but still, the fear and the insecurity are always there, lurking in the background, tempered only by the fact that he is madly in love with her and that she is just as madly in love with him.

Yes… they are madly in love with each other.

But is that enough to erase all of her fears?

_You oughta know…_

Her heart silently tells her that this time it is. And she hears herself saying that this is well worth the risk because Ryan's different from all the others; that this time, it is different simply because it is _him_.

He kisses her softly and gently and yet hungrily like there's no tomorrow, touches her with smooth caresses and desperate hands. He looks at her with both tenderness and lust, and she finds herself melting in his beautiful eyes. And when he smiles at her like she's a radiant goddess and tells her that he only has eyes for her… well, what more proof could she want?

_You oughta know…_

_Her mind goes back to the 'Love Connection,' and she imagines Chuck Woolery asking her what she thought about her date and subsequent dates with Officer #3. She smiles shyly, then, a rosy hue tinting her cheeks endearingly as she finds herself unable to stop the lovesick grin that keeps pulling her lips into a blissful smile. She clears her throat and decides to be concise as she gives the audience a brief recap…_

_She goes out on a date with this third bachelor candidate, this third officer, and their time together passes surprisingly well, and she finds herself agreeing to go on another one, and another, and another, until…_

_One thing led to another, and soon, she couldn't get enough of him. And just as suddenly as her opinion of him had changed from adorable boy to incredibly gorgeous man, she found herself falling so hard and fast for him, and she couldn't be happier than where their relationship is headed now._

_Asked if she thought she had picked the right officer from the lineup, Calleigh merely smiles at Chuck and, in a voice thick with southern charm, gives him a teasing reply…_

"_Oh, Chuck…"_

"_You oughta know..."_

She hears a voice in her heart tell her to stop over-thinking things, to stop worrying over nothing. There is no need to doubt what she knew in her mind her heart desires all along. Neither is there any need to question her standards because everything in her life had somehow managed to work out in the end, and she, finally, was left having more than she could've ever hoped for…

She was left with the man of her dreams.

_You oughta know…_

Her smile widens into a confident grin just then, and she finds herself dissecting that last phrase. Except this time, she consciously strikes out the 'oughta' in the middle, and instead of three, she only hears two… two words that echo loudly her own heart's content:

_You know._

Yeah… she _definitely _knows.

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**TBC **

**_Reviews feed my CaRWash/Cyan plot penguins, who are desperately starved and in danger of becoming emaciated. Please, be kind. Feed the plot penguins… _**

**A/N: **I've only seen little rerun snippets of the "Love Connection" hosted by Chuck Woolery when I was just a little girl, and back then I was still too young to understand it, so I'm having to go by what I remember from memory all those many years ago. And so, if my descriptions aren't accurate, please forgive them, and just remember that Calleigh was merely daydreaming.

Next song on the list: "Perfect."

Apologies also for the slow update. I've been working on completing my work deadlines, not to mention that I have several fics that are in desperate need of updating. To make matters worse, I also have several new plot penguins throwing themselves at my door, begging to be fed and entertained. Things are beginning to wind down a bit, though, and I'm hoping that once I'm caught up that I could work on this some more and that updating wouldn't take nearly as long, though I cannot promise anything at this time… only my word that this fic hasn't been abandoned and that I do work on updates whenever I can. To that end, I cannot tell you when the next update will be, but I do hope that you've enjoyed this 'drabble' piece. Let me know what you think.


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